Bullet Train From Tokyo
by Meixia
Summary: mild Brian/Justin mojo. A phone conversation, at an airport, in - hmm, lets guess - Tokyo! Short, pg-13 only for language.


A/N: The title is from a Garbage, song, copyrighted by Garbage. Ahm, this is my first QAF fic, and probably my last. lol. I'd much rather watch these guys in action than spin stories about them, because I'm just too damn lazy. Heh. Anyway, not mine, not true, don't sue. R&R, please!  
  
Bullet Train From Tokyo By Meixia 2.4.02  
  
He didn't know how he ended up in Tokyo, surrounded by a hundred milling bodies a head shorter than him as he looked across the sea of people, but he suspected Brian had something to do with it. Brian always had something to do with it, and that was the crux and luck of their relationship.  
  
'I should call,' he thought, but he didn't have the cell phone. When he woke up earlier that day, he was soaring above the skies, coasting with Brian on a plane heading back to Pittsburgh from a business trip in Australia. When he awoke again, the plane was empty and on solid ground, and Brian was nowhere to be seen. He should've suspected Brian to be so thoughtless, but somehow Justin didn't hold a grudge. He never really could when it came to Brian.  
  
'God damn, it's freezing.' Shivering in his thin, breezy cargo pants and purple top, Justin rubbed his arms to keep warm. It was his fault that he was freezing; Brian had warned him that there might be some unpredictable weather on this kind of trip, but Justin had ignored his warnings as usual and now he was regretting not taking a jacket.  
  
'Goddamn Brian, probably went to get laid by a flight attendant and forgot I was still fucking here. Asshole.' Justin thought with a flare of anger, and he balled his hands until his short nails were pressing a seam tightly against his palms. He couldn't believe Brian would forget to wake him up, but then Brian wasn't all that of a reliable guy when fucking was in the picture.  
  
It was odd seeing so many exotic faces surrounding him, the press of bodies a gentle reminder that he was alien here, and alone. He didn't even have his things, because those were packed with Brian's stuff in Brian's suitcase.  
  
"Fucking Brian." He muttered under his breath and shoved his cold hands into his pockets, grateful for the little warmth there, and it just happened to be pure luck that there was change in there, too. As he spotted a pay phone, he briefly contemplated on whether or not to let Brian hear the anger in his voice over the hurt, or vice versa. He didn't know which would slab on the guilt, so he decided on a mix of both as he dialed the familiar number to Brian's cell.  
  
After three small rings amidst the noise of the airport, a rather irate sounding voice answered.  
  
"What?"  
  
Justin hesitated, suddenly unsure of himself. "Did you forget something?"  
  
"Oh shit, Justin," Brian let out an audible breath and allowed himself a small chuckle, "I was worried you weren't ever going to turn up again. Look, I didn't mean to leave you on the plane."  
  
"Yeah, but you did!" Justin accused, and his voice piqued.  
  
"Calm down, Justin. I was just running an errand on one of the stops and got.sidetracked."  
  
Justin rolled his eyes and allowed a little more anger to seep through, "Fucking liar."  
  
"The plane was leaving by the time I got back, so I had to catch another flight back to Pittsburgh and had them fly my luggage over here. And now I'm home, but where are you?"  
  
"Tokyo, I think." Justin said and scrunched up his nose as his eyes traveled from one unfamiliar face to another, a queasy feeling settling in his stomach that was unease and the first real hints of fear.  
  
"No shit?"  
  
"No shit."  
  
"What the hell are you doing there?"  
  
Justin scowled into the receiver, "Like I would know!"  
  
"I should hope so," Brian answered, and Justin could picture his amused smirk, turning his supple mouth into a sexy trademark grin.  
  
"Just get me the hell out of here!"  
  
"Well, that's what you get when you oversleep on a flight." Brian explained slowly.  
  
"Fuck you," the blonde said evenly. He was getting really worried at this point, and the insensitive bastard was mocking him. "I thought someone would've woken me up." He muttered more to himself than anyone else.  
  
"Which airport are you at?"  
  
"Are you going to fly all the way out here to bring me back?"  
  
"No," Brian started patiently, "I'm going to purchase your plane ticket back to Pittsburgh. You don't have your wallet on you, because I have it."  
  
"Oh, right." Justin hated carrying around loose luggage, including wallets and the like, so he had entrusted it to Brian's care. "I'm at," Justin sniffed quickly as his eyes watered, blinking several times to clear his vision, and he craned his neck to read the Gate number from which he'd came, "Gate 14. Muchesiko Airport." Though the gate number was probably irrelevant.  
  
"Right, Muchesiko Airport. I'm gonna arrange a flight for you."  
  
"Right, whatever. Bye, Brian." He was suddenly so pissed, that Brian could leave him there, he didn't even want to hear his damn voice anymore.  
  
"Wait, Justin." Justin stopped, held the receiver up to his ear again,  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Are you crying?"  
  
"What? No, I don't cry, Brian." But Justin couldn't help a sniffle.  
  
"You're so pathetic." Brian laughed teasingly, "Suck it up, Butch. You'll be home soon, I promise."  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Hey." His tone was stern, and Justin immediately stopped his inner moping to pay attention.  
  
Brian was silent for a moment, a silence that stretched and swelled to a dramatic point where Justin was actually hopeful that he'd say some comforting words.  
  
"Come home safe, okay?"  
  
The boy sighed and felt like a balloon depleting, "I will."  
  
"Wait, hold on. I'm going to check available flights right now."  
  
And Justin fell silent as he listened to Brian typing away on his laptop.  
  
Fingering the phone cord, he thought of Brian's way of showing him his love. Everyone knew it, that Brian loved everyone in his own way, yet sometimes Justin was unsure of which way that might be for him. There was always teasing between them, so he supposed at one time or another that was Brian's way. He wished it wasn't though; sometimes he'd rather be shown love with nice words and soft hugs, like lovers do. He didn't get those very often, but when he did, he'd close his eyes and gently grab the soft material of Brian's shirt, and study the smell, feel, warmth that was Brian and save it to his ever growing list of memories.  
  
He knew that they'd come in handy one day.  
  
Minutes later, Brian's soft breath exhaled in a quiet gust through the receiver, "Looks like the only flight directly back to Pittsburgh is Thursday, 9:00 am."  
  
"What?!" Justin spluttered, "but that's in like, four fucking days!"  
  
"I know, but that's the only available flight back! I don't want you switching any planes on your way back in case I loose you again."  
  
Though the older man's paternal intentions did bring a small blush to Justin's cheeks, he still didn't want to stay in Tokyo for four more days.  
  
"I don't know anyone here, I don't speak their language. How the hell am I supposed to survive for four fucking days! Where will I sleep, Brian!" Justin nearly shouted into the receiver, and he could just picture the frown tugging at the man's lips.  
  
"Calm down!" Brian grunted and there was momentary static as he probably switched the phone to his other ear, "look, it's either that, or you stay there. Forever. So shut your hole."  
  
Justin scrubbed a hand over his tired face, his skin feeling too tightly stretched over his bones, "Whatever, fine." He breathed quietly, and gave a swift, sounding punch to the side of the payphone, "Do whatever you have to do. Just get me home." He said icily, and hung up before Brian could hear him cry. 


End file.
